


When We're Older

by egberts



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Childhood Friends, College, High School, M/M, Online Friendship, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-12
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-06-01 20:44:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6535606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/egberts/pseuds/egberts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're nine when you meet him.<br/>You're fourteen when he leaves.<br/>You're  twenty-two when you finally see him again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Are you some kind of genius?

**Author's Note:**

> heyo! it's been awhile since i've written anything! i've been feeling super creative lately so here's a quick fic about childhood friends who grow apart due to distance only to find each other again years later and (surprise surprise) fall in love! that's the endgame anyway, right? enjoy!!  
>   
> *if you find any typos or errors or awkward wording let me know in the comments*

His teeth are too big and his hair is too messy. Instinctively you touch your own hair to make sure it’s flat. Your brother always makes you brush it before school but sometimes you get what he calls “fly-aways”.

Your teacher, Mrs. Mendicant, stands in front of the class with one of her hands on his shoulder. “Class, this is Johnathan Egbert.”

He clears his throat and says something that you can’t hear from where you’re sitting. Mrs. Mendicant bends down and he whispers into her ear. She nods and says something back before standing up.

“ _John_ Egbert.” She corrects herself. “He’ll be in our class from now on, isn’t that exciting?” There’s a wave of half-enthusiastic replies before she smiles again and speaks to John. “Go ahead and take a seat right back there, dear.” She points to the empty seat next to yours. “Beside Dave.”

You suddenly feel like you need to sit up straighter. Slouching and leaning disinterestedly with your head propped up on your arm seems rude. You straighten up and look at him when he sits beside you.

He doesn’t say anything.

You frown.

“Hey.” You whisper, leaning over slightly.

He looks at you and whispers back. “Hey?”

“I’m Dave Strider.”

He nods. “I know.”

“Wh-” He smiles a little and leans over to touch the decorated nametag taped to the top of your desk. “Oh. Duh.”

“I’m John Egbert.”

“You’re a new student?”

He nods.

“Where did you come from?”

“Washington.”

You don’t know a lot about geography but Mrs. Mendicant has been trying to teach you all of the state capitals and you think you remember where Washington is. You gasp in awe. “That’s so far away!”

He nods.

“Well why’d ya move all the way down here?” You ask.

He shrugs.

“Dave, how about we set good examples for John, hm? Eyes front.” Mrs. Mendicant warns.

Your eyes snap forward and you stiffen up. “Yes, ma’am. Sorry, Mrs. Mendicant.” She carries on with the lesson and you can see John smiling out of the corner of your vision. You feel embarrassed.

The lesson carries on for what feels like days, you’re anxious and you want to talk to the new kid again. You were a new kid once too and you know sometimes making friends is not easy. Mrs. Mendicant turns off the projector and faces you all with a pleasant smile. “Alright, fourth graders, go ahead and go to recess.”

The students around you jump out of their seats and fly out the door in a hurry. Everyone likes to get the most out of recess. You would _usually_ be right there with them but as soon as you’re standing you notice John looking a little confused. You step around your desk and talk to him again.

“Come on, I’ll show you where to go.”

He nods and you lead him out the door and down the hallway that leads to the playground. He doesn’t talk very much but you think he’s probably just nervous.

You’ll talk for him.

“So anyway, you’re really far from home, huh? I bet this is your new home now, though, isn’t it? I know what that’s like. In first grade my brother and I moved here from San Antonio. I think I liked San Antonio better but I don’t really remember it _that_ much. It was prettier than Dallas.” You hold the door for him. “You know, you don’t look like you’re from Washington…”

He stops once he’s out the door and looks at you funny. “What do people from Washington look like then?”

“I don’t know!” You answer throwing your hands up and walking out the door after him. “Taller, maybe.”

He laughs. “My dad says I’ll get taller someday but I don’t know… my mom was short and my dad is also kind of short, I think. I don’t know. He’s short when he’s next to other grown-ups.”

You nod. “Both of my parents were tall and my big brother is tall too. Like really tall.” The two of you walk side-by-side towards the playground. “Do you want to play?”

He shakes his head.

“Aw, why?” You ask.

He shrugs and points at the playground. “Too many kids I don’t know.”

“You know me.”

“Hardly!” He laughs. You’re glad you can make him laugh. Everyone needs to laugh sometimes when they’re afraid. Your mom used to say that laughter was the _best_ medicine.

“Well… that doesn’t matter. We can just sit if you want?”

“Don’t you want to play?” He frowns.

You shake your head. “Nah. I’ll just hang out with you. I know first days are scary.”

He nods. “Thanks.”

The two of you find a spot in the shade under one of the saplings lining the school. He picks at the grass while you talk. He doesn’t say much but he’s a good listener and he doesn’t seem upset that you talk so much so you keep going. You keep talking until Mrs. Mendicant blows her whistle and calls for fourth graders to line up. You and John walk together up to the line.

After recess Mrs. Mendicant passes out a math paper that you’ll have two minutes to do as much as you can on. She says that when you’re done you turn the paper over and wait until time is up. Nobody ever finishes the whole page, though. It’s covered in fifty multiplication problems and fifty division problems too. The problems are all mixed up and you’re allowed to skip around but that’s just way too confusing.

Mrs. Mendicant starts the time and tells you all to go. You’ve barely made a dent when you hear paper wobbling beside you. Instinctively you look over and you are shocked to see John has flipped his paper and is looking forward. You waste a whole fifteen seconds looking at John in disbelief before shaking your head and turning back to your own paper. The timer beeps.

“Alright kiddos, trade papers with the person to youuuur – ” She considers for a minute. “Right.”

You have to pass your paper all the way across to the row on the other side of the room because there is nobody on your right. John passes his paper to you.

“Okay, let’s go over the answer. Everyone take out a red pen, please. John do you have a red pen?” He nods. “Good, good.”

She starts the review. This isn’t for a grade and you’re only supposed to mark wrong answers for problems that are already done so that everyone can know what they did wrong. Mrs. Mendicant collects the papers after you check them so she can see what everyone needs help with.

She stops when she gets to you and sees John’s paper. Her eyes travel between John and the paper more than once before she finally says something. “You finished the whole thing?” She asks him. John nods. “And he didn’t get a single one wrong?” She asks you. You nod. “Oh my, John. That is impressive.”

He gives her a soft smile and a faint blush creeps across his cheeks. He speaks quietly. “Thank you.”

Mrs. Mendicant carries on collecting papers and tells you they’ll be returned tomorrow morning. She goes back to the projector and starts the _real_ math lesson for the day. You can’t help but look at John more than once during the lesson because you’re pretty impressed. She assigns homework and moves on to the next lesson, and then the next.

The day ends on a high note when you all get cupcakes because it’s one of your classmate’s birthdays. As you’re packing up to leave John talks to you again. “Was I not s’posed to get them all right?” He asks, his voice still sounding kind of small.

“Huh?”

“On the math paper.”

“Oh!” You sit up and give him your full attention. “No – I mean – yes. I mean, well, nobody else does but we’re supposed to try!”

He nods and a look of relief spreads across his face.

“Didn’t you have any fast math papers in Washington?” You ask.

He nods again. “Uh-huh. But not really that easy.”

You knit your eyebrows together and look at him questioningly. “Are you kidding? Those papers aren’t easy. Some of those problems are in the triple digits!”

He nods.

You shake your head and keep putting your things away. “What are you, like some kind of genius or something?”

He shrugs. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Okay, well then you’re just _really_ good at math!”

He shrugs again and you give another disbelieving headshake and laugh at his modesty.

You come to find over the next days, weeks, and months that math is _definitely_ not the only thing John Egbert is good at. Every time you ask him if he’s some sort of genius he just shrugs and tells you he doesn’t think so and leaves it at that. It’s _infuriating._ He gets good grades on everything and sometimes you don’t even think he’s trying that hard. He acts like it’s not even a big deal!! You _wish_ you could write like he does. Mrs. Mendicant even pinned one of his essays to the bulletin board at the front of the room and suggested he enter it in a local essay contest. He didn’t.

Despite the little pangs of jealousy you get when he does something smart the two of you become friends. Fourth grade finishes and fifth grade comes and goes, John still firmly holding his spot at the top of the class. He never boasts about it and if you had a conversation with him you’d never guess he was so brilliant because he’s so modest. You’re pleased to find out you’ll be attending the same middle school.

Sixth grade is easier than you thought it would be. John, of course, passes with flying colors. Seventh grade? That’s when shit starts to get real. Pre-Algebra is definitely not your strong suit and you are not excited to find out what _normal_ Algebra is like. John? It’s a cakewalk for him. You definitely feel those little pangs of jealousy again.

**-oOo-**

His teeth are still too big and his hair is just as messy. You instinctively reach over and touch his hair in an attempt to flatten it. His dad always makes him brush it before school but he always gets fly-aways.

He jerks away after a minute of you trying to fix it. “Knock it off.”

“John you _cannot_ keep your hair like that.” You plead.

He brings both of his hands up to his head in offense (and it only messes up his hair more). “Why _not_?”

“Because it’s embarrassing!”

“Well it’s a good thing it’s not your hair then, isn’t it.” He snaps.

You sigh through your nose huffily and roll your eyes. “You are so stubborn.”

“You are too handsy.”

“I’m trying to help!”

“Help schmelp.” He sticks out his tongue at you. The overhead light glints off his braces when he does. “I don’t need your help.”

You sag your shoulders and groan. “John.”

“Dave.” He answers back.

“You look stupid.”

“Good. I want to look stupid. If you’re not going to say anything nice then don’t say anything at all!” He lowers his hands from his head and folds his arms.

“ _John_. I am not letting your nerd-butt go on public television looking like the bride of Frankenstein.” You move to fix his hair again.

He reacts quickly and grabs both of your wrists. “Nuh-uh. I’m fine.”

You close your eyes and give him a pained expression before relaxing your arms and saying, “Alright. Fine. Go on TV like that. I give up.”

He lets go of your wrists. “It doesn’t even matter. Nobody watches public television.”

“You would be surprised.”

He rolls his eyes and turns away from you. “I’ll see you after.”

“Good luck.”

John Egbert is quite possibly the most stubborn human being you’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. He was modest but he wasn’t shy like you used to think. He was smart but he wasn’t a genius like you used to think. A shy person wouldn’t go on TV with bed-head and an old t-shirt for his eighth-grade academic team competition. A genius wouldn’t go on TV with bed-head and an old t-shirt for his eighth-grade academic team competition. John Egbert was not shy and he was not a genius.

Still, you resign yourself and let him have his way again. You’re allowed to watch the recording from the side stage as long as you promise to be quiet. The smartest kids in your grade are competing so you’re not really sure why John is there.

John is dumb.

Okay, that’s not true.

John is _really_ smart. He’s smart with math, with science, with English, with everything. You’re still a little bit jealous. He told you before his mom died she used to take him with her to Mexico and his _Abuelita_ (according to John that’s Spanish for grandma but you’re not sure how much you believe him) would make him read. Apparently he’s been reading since before he could even talk all the way. He’s already read almost everything that you get assigned to read in school and _then some_. So yeah. You’re still a little bit jealous.

He answers every question he’s given during the competition correctly. You knew he would. He knows _everything_ , of course he would. You greet him with a hug after he’s let off stage and he grins at you. You playfully shove him after the hug and shake your head.

“I can’t believe you actually went on TV lookin’ like that.” You gesture both hands at his hair.

“Oh, bite me. I don’t care.”

“I know you don’t.”

The two of you hear a quick low whistle behind you and it’s John’s dad trying to get your attention.

John’s dad is not a very tall man. You remember when he met your brother; Bro towered over him by at least six inches. He walks over to you and John and claps a hand on both of your shoulders. “You did great, John. I’m proud of you. Your mother would be proud of you.”

John smiles and nods.

John doesn’t look very much like his dad. He’s got curly black-brown hair (when it gets long enough anyway) and light brown skin. His dad has plain brown (and you assume straight) hair and he’s white as hell. You’ve only seen a picture of John’s mom once but you remember thinking that John looked a lot like her.

You’re so busy fondly staring at your best friend and thinking about what he looks like that you don’t even notice his dad talking to you until halfway through his sentence.

“-with us to dinner?”

You piece together what he must have said and nod quickly accompanied by an “mhm”.

“Great!” He booms and pats your shoulder. “Let’s get going then.”

He takes the two of you out for dinner and halfway through the meal you call your brother and ask him if you can crash at John’s place tonight. He says you can as long as you promise that your homework is already done. You lie and tell him it is.

You hang up and give Mr. Egbert a thumbs up. He’s says he’s glad to have you and the three of you finish your dinner with idle conversation.  He drives you all back to the Egbert residence and you and John immediately bolt up the stairs.

John flops onto his bed and you flop beside him. “What do you want to do?” You ask.

“Uh, how about that homework you lied about?” He smirks.

You roll your eyes. “Nerd.”

“Come on. You know if you actually did your homework you’d have way better grades and you could stop hating on me for mine!” He has a point.

You don’t care. “Yeah? My grades could never compare to your genius-level bullshit anyway so it doesn’t matter.” He leans over and covers your mouth. You lick his hand.

He yanks it back and makes a face. “Yuck!! Dave you can’t _swear_ here!”

“You afraid ol’ poppa Egbert is gonna hear me?”

“Uh, yes!”

“Well he wouldn’t if you didn’t yell about it every _damn_ time.” You put extra emphasis on the word damn and he looks like he wants to melt into the bed.

“ _Please_.”

“All right, all right. For you.” You fold your arms behind your head and look up at the ceiling. “So talk to me Egbert, what do you got going on?”

He shrugs and you look over at him. “Nothing, I guess.”

“Come on, tell me what’s up.”

“Well you know almost everything! We see each other every day.”

“Mm.” You nod. “ _Almost_ everything.”

“Dave.”

You prop yourself up on your elbows. “Well. Come on, you’ve been keeping something from me for weeks. This is prime time to spill it.”

He picks at the bits of pilling fabric on his comforter and shakes his head. “It’s nothing.”

“Liar.” You grab his wrist and stop him from picking. “You’re fidgeting. Seriously, John, what’s up? You should be over the moon, you just basically won the academic team competition.”

“I know.” He sighs. “I almost threw it, though. On purpose.”

You sit up now. “What, why?”

“I don’t want to have to leave.” He speaks quietly.

“What are you talking about?”

“My dad is putting in an application for me at Maplehoof Academy for Gifted Minds in Washington.” You can barely hear him but his words feel loud. “He said if I won the competition it’ll pretty much guarantee I get in.”  

“Okay? What – does this mean you’re moving?”

He nods. “Yeah, I think so.”

“But what about your dad’s job? What –”

“We moved here for his work but now he can transfer back if he wants. He talked to me about it a couple weeks ago. He said he’d like to move back and be closer to our family and my mom. He – he said it was up to me but – he said if I get into Maplehoof that I should seriously consider moving back.”

“You’re not going to, right?” You speak without thinking.

He looks up and shrugs. “I don’t know. It’s a good school.”

“So – so is the high school here –”

“Dave this is a _really_ good school. Like – get into an Ivy League college good.”

“You’re only fourteen! You don’t need to worry about getting into an Ivy League college right now! And besides, you’re smart enough to get into one no matter where you go to school!”

He doesn’t answer you.

“ _John.”_

He looks down. A tear falls from his face. Another one. Another. Crap. You made him cry.

“John –”

“It’s fine, Dave.” He says but he doesn’t sound like it’s fine. “You don’t want me to move, I know. I don’t really want to either but it’s – it’s my future, you know?”

You hesitate. You want to tell him he can have a future just fine if he stays here but this isn’t about you. You don’t even know why you feel this way, you just don’t want him to leave Texas or – or to leave _you._

“Yeah.” You force yourself to say. “I’m sorry.”

“But –” He starts hopefully. “My dad said he’s finally getting me a phone, remember?” He wipes the few tears on his cheeks and tries to pretend he wasn’t just crying. You pretend you didn’t see him crying. “So we can text! And we’ve always got Pesterchum.”

You sigh through your nose and shrug one shoulder. “Yeah, I guess so. And we can video chat.”

“Yeah! And – and after I graduate I’ll come back and it’ll be fine.” He seems to be genuinely a little bit happier at this thought. “It’s only four years.” What about that Ivy League college?

“Yeah. Yeah, okay. I get it. The silver lining. Can we just – talk about something else? I don’t really-”

“Yeah.” He cuts you off. “Want to play a videogame?”

“You know it dude, pass me a controller.”

He grins and stands from the bed to turn on his TV. At this point you’re not sure if John leaving is in the future or not. You hope it’s not. He hasn’t even been accepted into the school, right? You hope he isn’t.

**-oOo-**

His teeth have never seemed bigger and his hair has never been messier. You told him to brush it when you woke up but he insistently refused and stayed right beside you on the bed. This is your last sleepover before he leaves and he swears he’s not going to waste his time brushing his hair.

You laugh and brush his hair back off his forehead, “What good is it going to do keeping it this way if I can’t even see you?”

“Oh yeah, you can’t see me Mr. Wearing-sunglasses-every-day-even-inside.” He sticks out his tongue.

“Hey, hey. It’s a fashion statement and besides I’m not wearing them _right now_.”

“You just woke up!”

“So?”

“So when you get out of bed you’re going to put them on.”

“Yeah? And? You’re going to put your glasses on too.” You grin.

“I need glasses, Dave!”

“Source?” He shoves you and you roll off the bed and hit the floor with an “oof”.

He looks over the edge of the bed, “My eye doctor, stupid.”

You smile up at him from your place on the floor before getting to your feet. “Alright. I can understand that.”

He rolls his eyes and joins you in standing, stretching, and yawning. “Breakfast?”

You nod and the two of you head downstairs to find something to eat. To your surprise, John’s dad has already made breakfast and left a note saying that he ran to the store and he’d be back soon. You both help yourselves and then retreat back to John’s room.

You sit cross-legged on the bed in front of him while he pins your hair back in various places with the butterfly barrettes that you picked up at the dollar store yesterday. You cross your eyes upward to have a look at his handy work. He laughs and you enjoy it.

“See? It’s so much better when you’re not wearing those dumb shades. You’re so expressive.” He pins the last barrette and sits back slightly with a look of satisfaction.

“Exactly. I have to hide my true nature, John. I can’t let people be seeing my emotions.” You say completely straight-faced (but you’re joking) (mostly).

“Why?”

You shrug. “Dunno. Just not how us Striders roll, you feel me?”

“Nope. I don’t.”

“Of course you don’t.”

He hops up suddenly and scans his room. It’s full of boxes right now and the entire time you’ve been here he’s had to guess which box has what in it. He frowns. “Man, I wish my dad didn’t make me pack the videogames already. I’m so bored.”

“Oh, am I not entertaining enough?” You scoff.

He turns his head over his shoulder at you and grins. “Of course you aren’t! You’re so lame!!!”

“You wound me, John.”

He laughs and flops back down on the bed, this time on his back. “Man, I’m just – I don’t know. Anxious. I want today to be perfect. It’s the last day we’re spending together!”

“Yeah, I get it.” You fall down beside him. “I mean – we’re going to say goodbye on the day you leave, right?”

He nods. “Of course!”

“But we have to go out with a bang.”

He nods again. “Yep.”

“Wanna walk to the store?”

He gives you a withering look. “You have an addiction.”

“What? I love cheap and dirty deals. Sue me.”

“I would but you spend all your money at the dollar store.”

“Fair enough.” You pluck one of the barrettes from your hair and stick it in John’s. “Consider this cheap dollar store junk a token to remember me by.”

He touches it and laughs. “Yeah okay. I need to give you something to remember me by too.”

“Aw, shucks, Egbert. You don’t have to –”

He kisses you.

It’s short. Inexperienced. His lips are warm and softer than you might have imagined because of how much he chews on them. He pulls back and looks over your face before breaking into a small grin. You open your mouth to speak but –

“Boys!!!” A voice calls from downstairs. “I’m home. I’ve got a few groceries and I could use some help.” John’s grin broadens and he hops up off the bed to run downstairs and meet his father.

You absently touch your lips as you sit up and your eyes fall onto the door that John just left through. You have no idea what’s going on in your own head right now. You stand to follow John and snatch your shades off the table before also exiting the room.

John is downstairs already helping his dad unload the few groceries they got to get through the next few days. John dad’s greets you when you enter the kitchen and you reply kind of hollowly. John occasionally gives you a glance or a knowing grin. Eventually he delves into a conversation with his father and you’re left with your thoughts, barely paying attention to the two of them talking and unsure if you’re being spoken to as well.

You’ve spent the last year – year and a half noticing the little things about John. You noticed the direction his hair curled, the shape of his nose, the way he chews his lips, how his eyes zoom across the page when he’s reading – it doesn’t matter what. If it was about John you noticed it. You thought that it was normal, that you were just getting older and coming to understand your best friend better but – but John’s kiss has you questioning everything you thought. Suddenly all the noticing, all the fond staring, all the unnecessary contact seemed like much _much_ more. You think back on everything, every thought you’ve had about John and you realize two things at the exact same time: you are gay and you have a crush on your best friend.

You are gay and you have a crush on your best friend. You are gay and you have a crush on your best friend. You are gay and you have a crush on your best friend. You are gay and you have a crush on your best friend. You are – He’s leaving.

_John is leaving._


	2. You still love him?

The day John left you felt numb.

He’d kissed you more than once during your sleepover. You wish he hadn’t. He held your hands before he left. You wish he hadn’t. He kissed you again after he said goodbye. You wish he hadn’t.

He rolled down the window as his father’s car pulled away. He waved, smiled, and said. “Don’t worry, Dave, we’ll see each other when we’re older.” And then he was gone. You remember standing outside for almost fifteen minutes after the car was gone. You remember hoping he would realize he didn’t want to leave and he would tell his dad to turn around.

He didn’t.

That was over a year ago, now. You’re almost sixteen and you’re in your sophomore year of high school. John is in Washington. He’s in his junior year of high school because he skipped a grade. (Of course he did.) You still talk. Not as much as you’d like but he’s still a part of your life. School doesn’t feel the same without him. You miss him.

You tried an online relationship but neither of you really understood how it worked or how you could enjoy it since you’d already known each other in person for so long. If anything the online relationship just made you miss him more. He felt the same way. You broke up before your freshmen year ended.

You sigh and shut your locker. You miss him a lot more today than usual. It’s the six year anniversary of the first day you met. You texted him earlier and told him he didn’t look like a person from Washington looks. He hasn’t replied yet.

“Why are you so fucking mopey today?”

Karkat isn’t like John. Karkat isn’t really that nice and he swears _too_ much. His teeth aren’t big and his hair isn’t messy. He’s short like John but he doesn’t look like him at all. He’s white, whiter than you. He’s a brunette and he’s got a few freckles dotted around his face but they pale in comparison to yours. You don’t think he gets much sun. You wouldn’t really consider him your _best_ friend but he is one of the only friends you’ve got.

You shrug. “Just missin’ Egbert.”

He rolls his eyes. “Oh, come off it. He’s been gone for what? A year and a half? Get over it. You still talk to him online, don’t you?” You nod. “Alright then, calm your-fucking-self and let’s go to lunch. My stomach is going to eat itself.”

You nod again and walk beside him. “Alright.”

With John you did a lot of the talking but with Karkat you’re pretty evenly matched. He’s going on about some argument he got into with the guy who sits behind you in science. You don’t know his name and you don’t care enough to learn it. “Right? Tell me I’m in the right, here, Dave.”

“Huh? Oh. Yeah. Fuck that guy.”

He gives you a withering look and stops briefly. “You weren’t listening were you?”

“Nope. Didn’t hear a damn thing you just said.” You cram your hands into your pockets.

“Asshole.” He pulls open the cafeteria door and you both go inside.

You get your lunches and find your way to your usual table. It’s one of the smaller circular tables and including yourself and Karkat there are four people sitting around it. Sometimes there are five but Terezi has been out sick for over a week now. Which is really unfortunate for you because, out of your friend group, Terezi and Karkat are the only ones who don’t make you want to rip your fucking brain out through your nose.

You pick at your lunch a little bit before you decide to push your tray forward and lay your head on your folded arms. Somebody flicks your shoulder when you do this. You peek up at them and answer with a “hm?”

“No offense dickwipe,” Karkat says, very much intending to offend, “But you need to eat. Your skinny white ass is going to die of malnutrition before we graduate if you don’t.”

You shrug and unfold your arms to grab the roll off your tray and then retreat back into position. Karkat groans.

“He’s right you know.” A voice from the other side of you says. “I’m not a fuckin’ nutrition expert or anything but I don’t think some solitary mother fuckin’ bread is going to help.” Gamzee is – at least he considers himself to be – Karkat’s best friend. They both cuss too much but that is where the similarities stop. They’re polar opposites. Where Karkat is short, snappy, and a little chubby, Gamzee is tall, chill, and lanky as all hell. He’s taller than you, he’s half-black half-Cuban, and he’s got an afro that could probably put the Jackson Five to shame.

“I’m watching my figure.” You talk into your arms and it sounds muffled. “Not everyone can eat an entire grocery store and stay skinny, Gamz.”

He laughs beside you and pats your back. “You’re a mother fuckin’ trip, Dave.”

“I don’t think you should make him eat if he doesn’t want to.”

You look up and prop your chin on your arms. “ _Thank you_ , Aradia.”

She looks at you for only a split second before returning her attention to the manga she’s reading. Aradia ranks third next to Terezi and Karkat. She’s short, you think around five feet, and she has long curly hair that goes down to her waist. You very vividly remember her and John talking together in Spanish some time before eighth grade ended and you know her parents are first generation immigrants so you think she might be from Mexico or somewhere south of the border too. You’ve never bothered to ask.

“Don’t _baby_ him, Megido.”

She looks up at Karkat with both eyebrows raised. “Karkat you’re so busy trying to make him eat that you’ve barely touched your _own_ food.”

He goes red and looks down in a huff. This earns a laugh from both you and Gamzee before you finally sit up and stretch a little. “Man,” You yawn. “I wonder when TZ is gonna be back. I miss her crazy ass.”

“I heard she might not even be fuckin’ comin’ back.” Gamzee mimics your yawn. “Got into some sort of accident and now she can barely fuckin’ see.”

“What?” You drop your arms and look at him with concern. “Are you serious?”

 He nods.

“Is she okay?”

He shrugs.

“Damn. No wonder she hasn’t even been on Pesterchum lately.”

“Ugh.” Karkat chimes in. “Don’t even talk about Pesterchum.”

“What? Why?”

“I’m still pissed that we’ve got to find a new chat client. Fucking low traffic, yeah right.” He rolls his eyes.

“Kar, I am ninety-nine percent sure we are like literally the only traffic that it gets. We’re like… its sole source of income. It’s outdated.”

“You’re outdated.”

“Eloquent.” Aradia quips. “Doesn’t John use it too?”

“Not much anymore.” You frown. “We mostly text. I’m trying to get him on with some new client before P-chum shuts down for good but he’s always so damn busy with nerd school that I can’t ever get a word in.”

She frowns at you sympathetically. “That really sucks.”

You nod. “Yeah. Fuckin’ kills me, honestly.”

“You still love him?” She asks.

“Uh, _duh_.”

**-oOo-**

[turntechGodhead began pestering ectoBiologist at 6:07 PM]  
TG: hey   
TG: you out of school yet?   
TG: ik youre like two hours behind me but im pretty sure youre out by 4  
TG: have you finally made an account on trollian?   
TG: its like knock off pesterchum but we can still video chat and talk on it  
TG: its kind of glitchy as hell tho  
TG: also no offense but do your best bud a favor and reply to his damn texts  
TG: rude ass  
TG: i work hard slaving over a hot phone to text your ass and you cant even drop me like a k in return  
TG: cold shit john  
[ectoBiologist [EB] is an idle chum!]  
TG: ugh message me when youre actually online and not just pretending  
[ectoBiologist [EB] is an idle chum!]  
TG: brat  
[ectoBiologist [EB] is an idle chum!]  
[turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 6:15 PM]  


You’re a little bit frustrated with John right now. The two of you have been able to talk exactly twice in the last two weeks and he didn’t even call you on your birthday. Pesterchum is shutting down for good some time before the end of the year so you’ve been trying to get him on a new client that you found. He keeps telling you he’ll get it but then he puts it off.

You decide to kill time while you wait for him to come online (if he even does). You play some video games and dick around on your computer. You update your web comic and then text Karkat about the movie you saw last week. You’re bored. You are so bored you want to pull your hair our piece by piece. You pace around the kitchen once, twice, three times unable to find anything to eat and you go back to collapse on your bed to wait for John.

He finally messages you almost a full two hours after you messaged him.

[ectoBiologist [EB] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 8:19 PM]  
EB: oh my god!! i'm sorry. my thing was on silent and i was working on homework. are you still here?  
EB: i feel like such a jerk, ugh.  
TG: good you should cuz you are  
EB: sorry ):  
TG: its fine have you installed trollian yet?  
EB: yeah but i can't get it to work!  
TG: ugh are you kidding me  
EB: no, i'm serious. it says it can't run on my system.  
TG: okay well fuck it we can still text  
EB: uh... actually...  
TG: what  
EB: well see i haven't been replying to texts because i...  
EB: dropped my phone in a puddle.   
TG: idiot  
EB: i knoooow, ugh.   
EB: it rains so much here.   
EB: i was fucking around with one of my friends and they shoved me and i dropped my phone trying to keep my balance.  
TG: idiot  
TG: also you just dropped an f bomb  
EB: stfu, i know. you don't have to point it out every time you massive ass.  
TG: hey im not the one who vehemently swore against swearing  
EB: my *dad*!!!  
TG: mmm likely story egbert  
TG: anyway no phone no chat client after the new year  
TG: what are you gonna do  
TG: how we gonna stay in touch?  
EB: don't worry! i've got your number written down!!   
TG: aight  
TG: good  
TG: dont fucking lose it like you did last time  
EB: i won't. i cannot be held accountable for the mistakes of my past self.  
TG: uh yes you can?  
TG: you gotta own up to that shit  
TG: none of this it was in the past it doesnt matter bullshit  
EB: rolling my eyes so hard!!  
TG: roll them harder  
EB: you're an ass.  
TG: you love me  
EB: as if!!  
TG: admit it you do  
EB: alright maybe a little.  
EB: JUST a little.  
TG: ill take it  
EB: so how have you been? how was your birthday?  
TG: it was good  
TG: sweet sixteen  
TG: me and some friends went to see some fucked up movie   
EB: what movie?  
TG: idr what it was called but it was like  
TG: a teenage girl  
TG: but she was half fairy   
TG: and she had to hide her wings so that her murderous half werewolf ex boyfriend didnt find her  
TG: and murder her  
TG: complete bullshit  
TG: you wouldve loved it  
EB: heheh, yeah. i totally would have. it sounds interesting!  
TG: weirdo  
EB: don't hate because i have better movie taste than you!! you're just bitter!!  
TG: keep your movie taste to yourself  
TG: im fine over here in actually-good-movie land  
EB: whatever!! you're in bad movie land!! *i'm* in good movie land!!  
TG: if you say so, nic cage  
EB: hey. i was thirteen. let me live.  
TG: like you don't still watch that movie nightly  
EB: i don't!  
TG: weekly?  
EB: no!  
TG: monthly then  
EB: uh, nope.  
TG: every once in a while?  
EB: well, yeah. nostalgia.  
TG: ah ha  
TG: so you do still love him  
EB: you're a terrible listener.  
TG: what did you say?  
EB: dave!!  
TG: jk jk  
EB: whatever, i'm glad you had a good birthday.  
TG: yeah  
TG: hows nerd school  
EB: difficult.  
TG: enlightening  
EB: idk!! it's just a lot harder than regular public school, i guess. idk.  
TG: john modesty egbert at it again  
EB: shut up.   
TG: seriously  
TG: didnt you skip a grade this year? 

You know he did. You pay attention to pretty much everything tells you. You so desperately want to remain a significant part of his life so you play the role of go-to information keeper. You swear you know more about John’s life at this point than you do your own. You don’t mind, though. You like it when he tells you stuff. He’s usually a lot more vocal online than he was in person. Or, he was more vocal online until he stopped talking to you.

EB: ...yes.  
TG: see?  
TG: youre being modest when you say you dk  
TG: what are your grades like?  
EB: they're okay.  
TG: john  
EB: good.  
TG: john  
EB: okay fine, i've got all as, fuck you.  
TG: "difficult"  
EB: it is!! it's challenging!  
TG: right  
TG: do you wanna video chat before pesterchum dies and i lose contact with you forever?  
EB: not forever! just until i get my phone fixed or get a new one.  
TG: forever  
EB: whatever, drama baby. yeah we can video chat. let me go brush my hair.   
TG: for me?   
EB: ❤  
[turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 8:51 PM]

**-oOo-**

The video crackles to life on his end of the screen. The two of you have video chatted several times in the last couple of weeks. You’re trying to get every conversation you can in before Pesterchum dies. John has had more time lately since school is out for break. You’re glad. You missed his dumb face.

You nod at the camera and he grins and waves. “Hey! What did you get for Christmas?”

You shrug and shake your head. “Not shit.”

“Oh, come on, anything good?”

You lean forward to grab the Nintendo 3DS off of your desk and hold it up.

“Oh, no way!!

“Yes way.” You click it on and show him the screen.

“Uuuugh!! I want one so bad!! My dad says I’ve got to wait, they’re still too new and too expensive.” He sits back and folds his arms. “They came out _months_ ago.”

“Don’t be a brat, John.”

He sticks out his tongue at you. “Did you get any games with it?”

“Oh, you bet.” You lean forward again and trade the 3DS for a couple of games that were sitting next to it. You hold them up and he groans again. “But as far as sweet loot goes, this about tops it. The only other thing I got is clothes.”

“Still, so sweet, dude. I want one. I’m banking on my birthday next year.” He rolls his eyes. “But that’s still more than four months away.”

“I’ve got high hopes.”

“Thanks.”

“Anyway, what did you get? Anything good?” You put the games back on the desk and look at him with an eyebrow raised. “What did ol’ poppa Egbert buy for his one and only son this year?”

“First of all, I told you to stop calling him poppa Egbert. It’s weird.” He makes a face.

“Right.” You nod once. “Daddy Egbert, then.”

“Dave!” He throws his pillow at the camera and covers his face with both of his hands.

You laugh. “I’m kidding.”

“You’re so nasty.”

“Only for you, babe. So come on, out with it, what did you rake in this year?”

He shrugs and lowers his hands. “Same as you, mostly. Clothes. Some new shoes. A car.”

You double-take (metaphorically speaking). “A what now?”

“A car.” The grin on his face grows from one ear to the other.

“A 3DS is too expensive but you got a _car?_ ”

He nods quickly. “Mhm.”

“ _What?_ _How? Why?_ You’re not even sixteen yet!”

“Okay – well –” He can’t stop smiling. “It’s used. My dad said it wasn’t outrageously priced and the mileage is terrible but he got it because I’m turning sixteen soon!”

“Jesus Christ, poppa Egbert really came through.” He gives you a look and you dismiss it. “I can’t believe you got a fucking car, dude, congrats.”

“Right? I’m still in shock. It’s surreal.”

“I take it your driving lessons are going well then?”

He nods. “Oh yeah.”

“Of course they are, you’re good at everything.” You roll your eyes.

“Are you taking lessons yet?”

You shake your head. “Nah, not until next semester but Bro has taught me some.”

“Good luck!”

“Thanks. Is it snowing over there?” You change the subject.

“Uh, let me check.” He gets up and walks off screen, you can hear the sound of window blinds behind pulled up and the wall behind where he was sitting gets a little brighter. He calls back to you. “Yeah!!” He returns to the computer and bends over it awkwardly. “You want me to sit in front of the window?”

“Duh.”

He picks up his laptop and relocates to the desk chair moved in front of the window. The camera is at an awkward angle now but John doesn’t care. “Can you see it?”

“Barely, the quality is shit.”

He frowns and tries to turn up his camera brightness. “Yeah, Pesterchum is really going down the toilet, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. It sucks. Have you got a new phone yet?”

“You would be the first to know!” He laughs. “But now I know why my dad has been putting off getting me one…”

“Yeah, jeez, a fucking car.”

“Mhm.” He nods and then you hear a faint clicking and the lighting on his face changes. He must’ve switched applications. You don’t want to be a freak and just watch him so you open up your browser and busy yourself too.

“Ugh, guess what.” He says.

“What?”

“I found out last week that I’m not getting my dumb braces off for like another year.” You can almost hear him roll his eyes.

“Aw, dude, that sucks.”

“I know. I hate it. I just want these dumb things out of my mouth!” You hear clicking again.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking up DIYs for taking off your own braces.” He monotones.

“John!!”

He laughs (a little too hard). “I’m _kidding_. My dad would kill me!”

“Shit, dude, I might kill you! Take my ass up to Washington and murder you.”

He laughs again (and you’re pretty sure it’s residual from the last laugh). “Good, maybe I should do it then.”

“Wha – why? You want to be murdered?”

“No, stupid! I want you to come to Washington.”

“Gay.”

“The gayest.”

“Seriously, John, don’t do that. It’s stupid and dangerous.” You warn.

“I know, I know. It’s fine. I was just joking.”

“Okay,” you say, slightly disbelieving. “I’ll believe you, this time.” You consider for a moment and then change the subject back to the car. “I honestly cannot get over you having a car.”

“Right!” He sighs. “I wish it had better mileage, I would totally come see you this summer.”

“Dude that’s like an 18 hour drive.”

“So? I miss you!”

“Two more years, right?”

He sighs again. “Yeah. Two and a half.”

You still haven’t brought up to him that his plan is faulted in the fact that he wants to go to an Ivy League college. You think maybe you’ll just move to New England with him. It might be nice, your cousin Rose lives in New York so it would be cool to see her more often.

“Hey,” He pulls you from your thoughts. “Click that link I just sent you.”

You open up the Pesterchum window again and click his link. You smile instinctively when you see the most God awful Christmas e-card you’ve ever laid eyes on. It’s got two kittens in a stocking in front of a Christmas tree and the entire thing is glittery and flashing. It reads “Meowry Christmas” in big letters and a speech bubble coming out of one of the kitten’s mouths says “I hope we get lots of presents from Santa Claws this year” in smaller letters. You laugh out loud.

“You like it?” He asks.

“I love it,” You say as you click to save it. “Where did you find it?”

“I made it.” He sing-songs.

“Seriously? Mad props, bro.”

“Heheh, thank you. Wanna see another one?”

“Hit me.”

He sends you another link, this time to one of his selfies edited so that he looks like he’s wearing a Santa hat. The entire thing is, once again, covered in a blinking and sparkling overlay. You save this one too.

“This is great.”

“Thanks.” He laughs. “You want me to make one of you?”

“Hell yeah, let me get you a good selfie.” You pull up your picture folder and find a selfie worth sending.

“Alright, gimme a minute. Artistic genius takes time.”

“Of course, Mozart.”

“Dave, Mozart was a composer.”

“You know what I meant.”

He laughs again and falls silent. You occasionally check on the video and you see him hard at work, the lighting on his face changing when he changes apps. Sometimes he pokes his tongue out of the corner of his mouth or bites his bottom lip in concentration. After about thirty minutes he finally speaks up again. He speaks to himself and occasionally to you off and on while he works.

“Alright, done.”

He sends you the file and it is wonderful. It’s not Christmas themed like the other ones. He’s put big pink bubble hearts around your head and obnoxiously glittery kiss marks on your cheek and he’s even cropped in a tiny picture of himself with a speech bubble saying, “You’re so lame Dave!!!” He’s included a moving border that looks like it’s from one of your comics.

You smile at it fondly for a minute before speaking up. “Aw man, John, this is great.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I love it. You’re a true ironic mastermind.”

“Hey, I learned from the b-” He’s cut off.

“John?”

You switch back to Pesterchum and find that his video is gone. You click around for a second before the entire thing freezes up and you get a popup that says “server no longer supported”.

Aw, _fuck_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh shout out to my friend emmaline for giving me the joke movie idea lmfao. consider it titled "emmaline undercover"


	3. How do you know if you don't try?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this ones a lil shorter cuz i had some struggles crankin it out

He never texted you.

_He probably lost your number._

He never messaged you on Trollian.

_He probably never got it to work._

He never added you on Facebook.

_He definitely didn’t have one._

You wonder if he wanted to talk to you at all. You wonder if he made an effort. You wonder if he did what you did and looked up a home phone number. (You don’t have one and apparently neither does he.) You wonder if he got into an Ivy League college. You wonder if he’s okay.

Sometimes you wonder a lot of things. Sometimes you don’t wonder anything at all.

It’s been over two years now. You’re about to graduate. You know he’s already graduated. You don’t actually think about him as much as you used to. You used to miss him so much. You used to actively seek him out. You used to go out of your way to find out any information you could.

The summer before your junior year you actually did find something. “Whiz kid, Johnathan Egbert, Wins National Science Fair for High School Students.” It didn’t give you any leads. You’ll still search for him on Facebook every once in a while, just to see. You haven’t in months.

You’re doing it right now, though. You thought maybe you could find him before you graduate and invite him to the ceremony. He didn’t invite you to his. You’re not sure if you’ll have the guts once you actually find him. _If_ you actually find him.

You scroll through the countless profiles under the name “John Egbert” and find nothing. You try “Johnathan Egbert” and get just as many useless results. You’re about to give up when the thumbnail of one of the profile pictures catches your eye.

You click the picture and your breath catches in your throat. It’s him. He’s older. He’s giving the camera a withering look and putting his hand up to stop the picture from being taken. You click the picture and click the next button but this is the only profile picture he has.

The about section is the next thing you click.

**Johnathan C. Egbert**

**Age:** 18

 **Birthday:** April 13, 1996

 **Hometown:** Maple Valley, Washington

 **Current city:** Boston, Massachusetts

 **About:** idk what to write here? i’m a freshman at harvard university. i’m new to facebook. i’ve got a cat and a pet salamander. i just turned 18!

You cover your mouth with your hand and sit back in your desk chair. You haven’t seen him in over two years but there he is. All you have to do is send him a friends request and you can rekindle your old friendship. It’s that easy. Two and a half years of questions can be answered with one click.

You lean forward again and hover your mouse over the “Add Friend” button.

How long has he had this Facebook? It doesn’t look like he’s had it long. Still, did he want to be your friend? Did he miss you? If he did then why didn’t he seek you out and add you right away? Maybe he didn’t miss you at all. Maybe he _forgot_ about you.

You hover the mouse a bit longer.

If he wanted to be your friend he would’ve added you. If you add him he’ll know you were looking for him. Oh God, that’s too weird. You’re not going to add him.

You keep hovering.

But what if he does miss you? What if he just couldn’t find your profile? He’s new to Facebook, he probably didn’t know how. No, that’s stupid. He’s got over one-hundred people on his friends list already and he isn’t stupid. He didn’t add you on purpose.

You close the window.

You put your computer to sleep.

You sit back in your chair with your hands on your head. “Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck me.” You breathe.

You’re anxious.

You stand up.

You pace around the room.

Bro knocks.

You stop. “Come in?”

He pokes his head in and keeps one hand on the doorknob. “Hey, you trying to wake up the downstairs neighbors or what, kid?”

“Sorry.”

He opens the door all the way. “What’s wrong?”

“What? Nothing. Why do you think something is wrong? I’m fine. I’ve never been finer.” You go to run a hand through your hair and accidentally knock your shades askew.

“Yeah. Okay. And I’m Shirley Temple.” He steps inside and folds his arms. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

You insistently shake your head. “Nothing. It’s fine. It’s stupid. It’s nothing.”

“Dave.” He says firmly.

You put both your hands on your face and groan before dropping to your bed and bouncing a few times. “It’s John.”

“John?” He questions. You look up and he’s looking at you like he doesn’t know who John is.

“Egbert.”

You can see the sudden recognition on his face. “What about him?”

Another groan escapes your mouth and you point to your computer. “He’s got a damn Facebook.”

Bro stares at you for a minute for laughing. “Are you serious? That’s it? What’s wrong with that?”

“He’s got a Facebook and – I don’t know! I just found it! I haven’t seen him since I was barely sixteen!” You hop to your feet. “I don’t know what to do, I’m freaking out.”

“Dude, just _add_ him.”

You look Bro dead in the face with the most offended expression. “Are you _kidding?_ ” You throw your hands up. “I can’t just _add_ him!”

“Why not?”

“Because he didn’t add me! He’ll know I was looking for him – he’ll – he probably doesn’t even remember me!”

“And how do you know that if you don’t try?” Bro raises and eyebrow.

You point at him accusingly and open your mouth to speak. You close it. You open it again. You close it again.

“Exactly.”

“I’m not adding him.” You say, matter of fact.

He shrugs and puts a hand on the doorknob again. “Fine, don’t then.”

“You’re not going to tell me to?” Your expression falters.

“Nope. This is your business. Just keep it down before Mr. Noir downstairs gets pissed and calls the landlord again.” He steps out and shuts the door behind him.

You stare at the door for a minute before groaning loud enough for him to hear and then flopping onto the bed again.

**-oOo-**

You decided not to add him. You check on him often, though. He doesn’t post much but from what he does post you think he seems happy. You’re glad. You want him to be happy. You wish he’d post more pictures. Hell, maybe he does but they’re set to friends only? If only you had the guts to add him.

It’s not that you don’t want to add him. You really do. You _really_ really do… But you’re scared. You’re scared he doesn’t remember you; you’re scared he does and he just doesn’t like you anymore. It’s stupid.

You know it’s stupid.

You don’t care.

You’re scared.

“Watch it, TZ.” You yank her sideways. “There’s a wall there.”

Terezi is still one of your best friends. She’s pretty much entirely blind because of an accident in your sophomore year of high school. She can see outlines, blurs of color, sometimes finer details if she’s up close with the object she’s looking at.

“I knew that.” She pulls her shoulder from your grasp. “Don’t baby me.”

“I’m not!” You huff. “I was just saving your sorry ass from _another_ broken nose.”

The two of you kissed once, in your junior year. It was because of an identity crisis on your part. _Am I really gay? Did I really love John? Do I really love John?_ It wasn’t good. It fell flat. Neither of you liked it.

“If I get enough of them I can get a new nose.” She jokes.

“I don’t think that’s how it works.” You come to a stop behind the long line of people waiting to buy concert tickets at the box office belonging to one of the smaller, shittier venues in town.  

“What do you know, Dave?”

“Fair point. Where is Karkat?” You look around at the heads surrounding you.

“Pfff, probably off lip-locking what’s-her-face.” Terezi folds her arms over her chest. “Douchebag.” She’s got some bitter feelings towards Karkat because of a relationship falling out during your last year of high school. “I’ll be glad when I leave this dumb town and get away from him for good.”

“Man, are you kidding TZ? You really want to leave that bad? What about me?” You fake-pout.

“Come with me.”

“Uh, no offense but I don’t think I’ll be accepted into your special school. Especially this late in the game.” She’s leaving for college in two weeks. She was accepted into a college tailored specifically for the visually impaired. She’s pretty excited.

“Right, the whole you being able to actually see thing has nothing to do with not getting in.” She nudges you with her elbow.

You give her a small laugh in return. “Um, hello, I’m almost always wearing shades. I could fake it.”

“That ain’t right.” She shakes her head. “But seriously though, I will miss you. I’m glad we’re hanging out before I leave… even if we had to invite Karkat.”

“Well don’t worry, he’s looking like a no-show.” You scan the crowd again. “Just me and you tonight, babe.”

“I’m swooning.” She says dryly.

“The Strider charm.” You instinctively usher her forward when the line starts moving. “You’re going to keep in touch right?”

You’ve got a nagging fear that as all your friends leave for college or otherwise they won’t talk to you anymore. It’s irrational. You know they probably will. You’re connected on numerous social media accounts and they _love you_ but you’re still afraid. You would like to say you have no idea why you’re afraid but you know exactly why.

You sigh.

“Of course, Dave.” She reassures. “Have you added him on Facebook yet?”

“Who?” You play dumb.

“Dave.”

“What?”

“ _John_.” She says his name with a bitterness not unlike the one she holds for Karkat. She doesn’t like John much. She didn’t like him in middle school and she _really_ doesn’t like him now because she knows how he makes you feel and how he just _stopped_ talking to you.

“Uh,” You awkwardly rub the back of your neck and shrug. “No.”

“Dave!” She scolds.

“What? I just – he doesn’t want to be friends with me.”

“Well how do you know that?”

The two of you step forward again and you give another shrug. She probably can’t see you do it but your shoulders are touching so you know she can feel it.

“He would’ve added me.”

“What if he hasn’t thought about it?”

“Exactly, then. He’s forgotten about me.”

“You are such an insufferable prick sometimes, Dave.”

“You flatter me, Terezi.” She bumps her shoulder into yours and you step forward again. “I don’t know. I want to but I’m building up to it, I guess. I’ll add him eventually.”

“Eventually.” She echoes and a silence falls between you while you wait to buy your tickets. You’ve got a lot on your mind.

**-oOo-**

You do add him eventually.

Eventually as in one year, three months, and two days later.

Terezi kept in touch like she said she would. Karkat doesn’t keep in touch as much. He’s gone to South America with his girlfriend, Jade. He sends you postcards but they’re traveling so Wi-Fi and a decent cell signal are hard to come by. You still see Gamzee pretty regularly; he works at the grocery store you frequent. You see Aradia even more regularly; you take some of the same classes at the local community college.

You feel stupid. _Really_ stupid. You’ve just sent him a friend’s request. It’s the ten year anniversary of when you first met. You’re staring at your phone in mild horror. If you take it back will he still see the notification? If he has Facebook mobile it would still be on his lock screen, wouldn’t it? Oh, God. You’re so stupid.

You toss your phone onto the couch beside you and stand up to pace. You’re really glad Bro is out because you are looking mighty uncool right now. You run both your hands through your hair over and over and glance at the phone on the couch several times.

Why are you so anxious?

Maybe because he was your best friend?

Maybe because he _is_ your best friend?

Maybe because you loved him?

Maybe because you _love_ him?

Maybe because he hasn’t talked to you in four years?

Maybe because _you_ haven’t talked to _him_ in four years?

Maybe because he’s forgotten you?

Maybe because _you’ve_ forgotten _him_?

But you haven’t. Not at all. Have you? Maybe you have. You’re idolizing him. You’ve been idolizing him since you last heard from him. Since he left. How good could he be? You don’t remember. You forced yourself to only remember the good parts. You’re freaking out.

_Ping._

Fuck.

_Ping. Ping. Ping._

You stare at the phone on the couch.

That was four pings.

Four messages.

They could be from anyone.

_Ping._

You stare a while longer, flexing your fingers at your sides, willing yourself to move.

Finally, you do.

You pick up the phone and unlock it. You open Facebook messenger and stare at the bolded name: **_Johnathan Egbert._**

hey!  
wow, long time no see, huh?  
it's been like three years!

It’s been _four_.

how are you?  
i'm sorry i never texted you. i lost your number. i could never get whatever that one thing was called to work.

You read these messages several times before finally working up the resolve to say something back. You immediately want to beat yourself up for giving him such a stupid reply after four years.

hey no sweat

A lot of questions you had were answered and you aren’t sure how you feel. He remembers you. He knows he was supposed to text you. He remembered Trollian. Of course, now you’re asking yourself a whole new series of questions. Did he try other ways to get in touch? Did he want to talk to you? Did he know you were on Facebook? If he did, why didn’t he add you? Was he afraid too?

no sweat? are you kidding! talk about letting somebody down.  
seriously dude nbd

Why do you hate yourself?

whatever, i'm still sorry. i tried to like look you up in phonebooks and stuff but never found anything.  
never considered facebook though, because i'm smart but i'm dumb.  
only made this stupid thing for college clubs, didn't even think about reconnecting with old friends with it.

Old friends. Right.

haha yeah i didnt even know you had one

Liar.

until recently anyway  
oh yeah!! i have for over a year now. actually since around my eighteenth birthday!! jeez, it's been a lot longer than i thought.  
speaking of birthdays!!! isn't yours coming up soon? like a few weeks?

He remembers your birthday.

yeah december 3rd  
that's so exciting!! you're gonna be twenty right?  
sure am  
are you ready??  
to be twenty, i mean.  
dont see how its any different from being 19 actually  
well, yeah i guess but you won't be a teenager anymore!  
true  
i should send you something for your birthday!  
nooo you dont have to  
are you kidding? yes i do!  
it's only like the tip of the apology iceberg!  
apology iceberg?  
you know? sorry i didn't talk to you for three years, i didn't know how to.

_Four._ Four years, John. It’s been _four_ years. Not three.

ohhh yeah haha i guess if you really want to  
oh yeah, i totally do.  
i'll ask you for your address a little bit later, though. if you tell me now i might forget it lol.  
wow, i am just so glad to talk to you again. i wish we could skip all this awkwardness and go right back to being best buds.

Awkwardness.

You wish the same thing. Fuck, you’ve never wished anything harder. But you’re awkward. You can’t help it. You don’t know what to say. He’s already acknowledged what happened and apologized more than once. What are you supposed to say? “Hey dude, it’s fine that you completely left me hanging for four years, shit happens.”

aha, that was such a stupid thing to say. sorry.  
no its cool  
i get it  
shits mad awkward  
dont force yourself to rush into it bro  
baby steps  
toe the water  
that's probably the best way to do this! it's been so long, i'm sure we've both changed so much!!  
are you in college?  
community  
oh!! cool. i'm at harvard.  
ivy league  
yep!  
did you ever learn to drive? lol  
sure did  
got me a car and everything  
that's great!  
heh, i kind of accidentally wrecked my first car.  
what???  
yeaaah, it was totaled.   
god damn  
yeah, but it's fine.  
thats just crazy were you ok?  
yeah. no serious injuries, i just broke my arm.  
right no serious injuries JUST a broken arm  
lol it wasn't that big of a deal!  
whatever egbert  
so how is life? how are you?  
im alright  
survivin  
i see, i see.  
wbu  
pretty much same! working on my third year of college.  
i always wondered if you started early  
yep!! didn't skip a grade in high school for no reason.  
yeah  
god i still cant believe youre a fuckin genius  
not even close!  
and still just as modest

He stops replying and you think you said something wrong. You’re about to start panicking when you see the little typing bubble again. A wave of relief overcomes you.

hey, dude? i've got to go. i've got class in like five minutes and i got distracted talking to you!! i'll message you later, okay? look forward to it!! and this time i PROMISE i will!  
yeah  
later dude

Don’t make promises you can’t keep, John.

You sigh and run a hand through your hair again, reading and rereading your conversation with him for thirty minutes or more. He seems exactly the same. You finally lock your phone and stand up to go make yourself something to eat. You don’t really know if you feel like eating but you’re going to if only just to drown your anxiety.

You’re working on your third bowl of canned chili when your pants pocket vibrates and you hear that familiar little _ping_. _Ping. Ping._


	4. Why are you so stressed?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this one took so long to crank out! i went of a sort of spontaneous road trip for ten days and then i couldn't get back into the groove of writing. probably a little bit of awkward writing in this one because augh that writer's block, man.

dave? are you at work? holaaaa?  
okay, idk where you are but i have something SUPER imporant to ask you.  
would it be rude to ask without you being here?  
probably.  
am i going to do it anyway?  
definitely.  
i think i'll be less anxious about the answer this way?  
or maybe not...  
because i'll have to wait on it.  
ok ok ok.  
daaaaave!  
ugh. alright, dude when you get online hmu with an answer then.  
i'm graduating next month and i want to invite you!!!  
consider this your RSVP.  
i really want you to come...  
it would be so great seeing you.  
especially after so many years!!  
maybe even if you can't make it to the graduation you can still come visit?  
i'll pay for your plane ticket!!  
you can crash at my apartment or a hotel but hotels in the area are crazy expensive.  
idk just something to consider.  
get back to me, okay?

You’re caught off guard. You were checking your phone on break when you saw the string of messages from John. You don’t know what to say. You’ve been staring at your phone like an idiot for a good three minutes. John wants to see you? You’d both talked about it in the past but never really came to any solid conclusions. You kept up with each other on Facebook and through texting, though you don’t feel like the same spark that the two of your used to share is still there... at least not for John.

You glance the time and realize your break will be up soon. You look back at John’s string of messages again before the small “is typing” bubble shows up. Oh shit.

i see you online, strider.  
give me an answer.  
okay okay yeesh  
chill  
im trying to think of what i got going on next month  
what day do you graduate?  
fifteenth!  
lemme hit up my manager real quick  
... aren't you the manager?  
he says i can have a week or two off  
dork.  
he says that thats rude  
and you should feel sorry  
dave you're so dumb.  
i'm going to look into flights and stuff.  
aight i have to go back to work in a minute  
makin that daily dollar  
you know how it is  
i do not.  
spoilt brat  
good luck with work! text me tonight!

You pocket your phone and head back out onto the floor. You’ve got a lot on your mind suddenly and your job performance slips slightly. Nobody notices. After a few hours you clock out, have a short conversation with the person taking over, and head home. On your way home you pick up some Chinese takeout and it’s… not the best. That’s what you get for going so cheap. Before messaging John you decide to hop in the shower and you take a little bit longer than you meant to because you zoned out mid-wash.

hey  
you still up?  
did you find a flight?  
you know i could pay for my own  
i know but it's okay, i'll cover it! i've got enough money.  
how was work?  
it was okay  
i got chinese after  
took a shower  
you know  
normal shit  
sounds fun?  
loads  
so, i found a pretty cheap flight, i figure we can get you the flight back after you get here? so you can stay as long as you like. up to you though!  
what day?  
for the 13th? i figured two days before graduation day would be good?  
yeah sounds good to me  
we gonna kick it before you graduate  
its gonna be great  
yeah! i'm so excited!!  
i've already got like a list of stuff i want to show you!  
i really need to clean my apartment.  
ugh...  
chill  
you dont have to clean for me  
pfffff! yes i do. it's been like six years since i've seen you.  
eight  
huh?  
its been eight years  
we were fourteen  
were 22 now  
get your facts straight egbert  
i can't get anything straight.  
ha ha  
hehe.  
i cant believe you cant do simple math  
i thought you were supposed to be a genius  
i'm not a genius! jeez.  
lies  
whatever i'm going to sleep, i've got class in the morning.  
text me tomorrow  
duh!  
and ill see you next month  
oh yes you will! i'm so excited.  
bye  
night!!

You (more recklessly than intended) toss your phone onto the coffee table beside you and push the palms of your hands into your eyes. You slump back further down the couch with a groan of frustration. You’re not sure if you actually want to do this; if you actually want to _see_ John.

It’s been years.

You’re a God damn adult now.

It’s been _years_.

Get over it.

You haven’t _seen_ John _in person_ in _years._

Suck it up.

You’re twenty two years old and you have not seen him since you were fourteen. You have every right to be stressed, nervous, worried, anxious. Every reason.

No you don’t.

Yes you do?

You’re an _adult_. Handle this like an adult.

No. You don’t want to. You want to sulk. To feel sorry for yourself. To feel anxious.  Fuck all that adult shit. You’re barely old enough to legally purchase alcohol you haven’t earned the adult title yet.

You slide yourself the rest of the way down the couch and onto the floor. 

This is it. This is where you belong.

On the floor, out of the way.

You don’t have to worry about meeting your best childhood friend while you’re down here. 

You just exist down here.

After a solid fifteen minutes on the floor you finally get to your feet, grab your phone, and head to bed. You don’t sleep easy. You’re not sure you ever really sleep easy but tonight in particular is not a good sleeping night. You’ve got a lot on your mind and you’re stressed and anxious and you’re trying to convince yourself you’re allowed to handle this situation however you damn well please because it doesn’t matter if you’re an adult, you still have _feelings._ Those feelings are just slightly… irrational.

**-oOo-**

“I don’t understand. Why are you so stressed?” Aradia asks, sipping her sweet tea. “I would think that you’d be over the moon at the chance to see him again.”

“Yeah, when I was like sixteen, maybe. I’m twenty-two now. I let myself get over him.” She gives you a look and you roll your eyes. “What? I have.”

“I’m sure you have, Dave.” She lets her eyes fall back onto her menu and barely tries to hide the smirk on her lips.

You want to roll your eyes again but you don’t because you’re an adult and that would be childish. You look back at your own menu. “I don’t know why I keep agreeing to go on lunch-dates with you. You’re intolerable.”

“Not as intolerable as you.” She closes her menu. “Have you decided what you want?”

“Yeah, I guess I’m just getting the usual.” You close your menu too. “We need to branch out, find better restaurants.”

“Says _you_.” She reaches across the table and takes your menu so she can stack it with her own. She is in the habit of doing simple things like that to accommodate the servers because she used to be a server herself. She’s working as a paid intern for the local police department now, though, and she loves it. She wants to be a forensic investigator.  

“Hey. I take offense to that.”

“I’m sure you do Mr. I-Don’t-Want-To-Try-Anything-New-Because-What-If-I-Don’t-Like-It.”

“It’s a very valid argument, okay?”

“It is but you can’t argue that and then say we need more restaurants. That’s hypocritical.”

“Whatever.” You finally let yourself roll your eyes again and sip your own sweet tea.

“When are you leaving?”

“The thirteenth.”

“Oh, dang, that’s a lot sooner than I thought.”

“I know. I’m trying not to think about it.”

“Have you packed yet?” She straightens up slightly when the server comes back around to take your orders. You shake your head and then turn your attention to the server. The two of you make your orders and thank her before she takes your menus and takes her leave. Aradia immediately resumes the conversation. “You haven’t packed yet?”

“No.”

“Dave it’s like – four days away!”

“I know.”

“Dave!” She kicks you under the table.

“Ow!” You kick back. “I _know_ okay? I’m just stressed.”

“You need to pack, estupido.”

“I will. What if I need one of the things I pack and then I don’t have it because it’s packed? Obviously I need to wait until the exact day before. Maybe not even the day before. Maybe the morning of. Never know what I’m going to need.”

“Dave.” She gives you a very stern look and you raise your hands innocently. “You can’t fly across the country unprepared.”

“Watch me.”

“Ugh. And I’m the intolerable one.”

“You are. Nagging me like my mother or something. I liked you better before you developed a sense of responsibility.”

“I never liked you.”

“Awwww. I love you too.” You grin. She rolls her eyes this time. You give her a double-handed heart and she mimics the gesture with a very intentional looks of disdain.

The two of you carry on your conversation in a different direction, less stressful for you, thank God. You eat your food and spend another fifteen minutes just talking before you decide to part ways. When you do she makes you swear to pack and you (regretfully) pinky promise that you will. It’s a hell of a lot easier to pretend something isn’t happening if you completely ignore it until the very last second.

You text John after you leave the restaurant and send him the selfie that you and Aradia took before you sat down to eat. He sends you the heart eyes emoji in return and you’re not exactly sure what it means. You said you were over this asshole but you are definitely not over this asshole. Since he’s been back in your life you have been having the most absurd confused feelings about him. You put your phone in the passenger seat and buckle up before heading home. A night of video games and cheap beer awaits you.

You end up passing out on the couch with a paused video game in front of you and an unfinished beer beside you. You wake up the next morning with an imprint of your knuckles on your cheek and a neck ache that screams “I slept sitting upright.” You take a quick shower, have a quick meal, and then head to work. Work is a good way to distract yourself from the approaching flight but John ruins it when he texts you about being excited to see you and anxious to “meet you again” and how he can’t believe it’s happening in just a few days. You very much want to ring his neck. Throwing you off your cool and collected groove like that.

When you get home that night you have a very quick and very unhealthy dinner before finally sitting down with your suitcase and taking care of business. You text Aradia a picture of the mess you’ve made deciding what clothes to bring and she replies with several thumbs up and clapping emojis in a row. You send the middle finger emoji in return. She sends a heart. You toss your phone onto your bed and carry on with the very tedious job of packing and unpacking until you’ve packed the exact right things.

**-oOo-**

boarding the plane now dude  
holy shit, what? you didn't even tell me you were at the airport!  
i was trying to stay lowkey  
surprise you  
some kind of texting ninja  
is he at home? at the airport?  
we dont know he doesnt text  
HACHAA  
here i am  
boarding the plane  
taking your egbert ass by surprise  
i'm glad you told me! you would've had to wait at the airport here for me to show up otherwords!  
please tell me you arent going to go sit and wait at the airport for me right now john  
i'm excited...  
this is a 3 1/2 hour flight  
i'm resilient.  
john  
dave.  
john  
dave.  
john  
dave.  
john  
dave...  
john  
turn it around and park it  
you are allowed to leave 30 minutes before the plane comes in  
you aren't the boss of me.  
johnathan egbert  
daaaave!  
you are not sitting in an airport for three hours  
ugh! you're so bossy.  
i know  
its a curse  
but seriously take it from somebody who just sat in an airport for three hours  
dont do it  
fine fine fine, i'm not.  
good  
i guess have a good flight, i'm going to go tidy up and take a shower and probably chew my nails down to the beds!  
do what you must  
see you in a few hours!  
same dude

You switch your phone into airplane mode and sit back. You’re anxious, incredibly anxious. The old man next to you smells like sauerkraut and the woman next to him seems very unfriendly. You’re glad you got the window seat. Looking out the window while you’re flying might just keep you grounded. (You, of course, completely appreciate the irony of that.)

Running over the situations in your head as you fly is only making you more anxious.

What if something goes wrong?

What if John doesn’t like you like he used to?

What if it’s awkward? Of course it’s going to be awkward!

What if you hug him? You want to hug him. What if he doesn’t like hugs?

Every possible dramatic scenario is playing on repeat in your head and looking out the window doesn’t help nearly as much as you thought it would. At one point you calm your nerves by focusing on taking pictures of the clouds from above but soon the clouds are gone and you’re left with your thoughts again.

What if John thinks you’re weird?

What if you do something to offend him?

What if he does something to offend you? Ridiculous. He could never. You’ve got him on too high of a pedestal. But that might make any possible offense that much worse.

What if you say something stupid? What if you let your heart talk before your head? Why would your heart need to talk? Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Your heart has a lot to say. Your heart has more to say than you know.

The flight touches down and you exit the plane. You stop in the airport bathroom to check yourself, splash water on your face, and make sure you’re the picture of calmness, coolness, and collectedness. You totally aren’t but you have to look the part anyway.

You exit the secure zone and shoot John a text.

here

You barely manage to get your phone back in your pocket when you’re practically _tackled_ by an unseen force. You almost yell out but thankfully you realize that it’s John before you do. He’s squeezing you so tight you can barely breathe.

“John –” You gasp (intentionally overdramatic). “Lungs.”

He laughs and lets you go. “Sorry, sorry. I can’t believe you’re here!” He pulls back and grins up at you.

“H-hey.” You stutter and then internally beat yourself up for it. There goes that calmness you were trying to hang on to.

“Hey!” He hugs you again and this time you hug back but not as warmly as you’d like to. You’re kind of in shock.

Your heart has a lot to say.


	5. I missed you so much?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> john is back and so am i

His teeth aren’t as big but his hair is still just as messy. You briefly wonder if anyone tells him to brush it. It doesn’t really matter; he’ll always get fly-aways.

You’re staring at him, you’ve been staring since he picked you up. You know it’s weird but you can’t make yourself stop. He looks so much older and yet he still looks exactly the same. He’s talking, clearly excited to be face-to-face with you. You nod along and continue staring, occasionally taking a sip of your coffee. He bought you coffee. The first thing he did was buy you coffee.

“So, you are staying at my apartment, right? Like, you’re totally allowed to and then you can drive my car if you need to. I don’t want you to feel unwelcome! God, that is the last thing I want.”

He talks so much more than he used to, he’s so vocal now. You wonder why he grew into such a chatterbox, what changed him? It’s a good change. You like it when he talks. God, that is so _weird._ You still like him so much, it’s like eight years of no contact has just jumped out the window.

“Of course, why would I pass up an opportunity to stay at casa de la Egbert.” You say smoothly.

He grins. “Oh, you speak Spanish now? Eso es muy lindo.”

“Not… that much.”

He laughs. “No, but seriously, I’m glad you’re gonna crash at my place. It’d be so awkward to have to meet up every day. I feel like we’ll definitely get maximum reunion time if you’re actually _at_ my house. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, yeah yeah yeah, that totally makes sense.” You nod and sip your coffee. “We haven’t seen each other in eight years, of course we have to get every minute possible in while I’m here.”

John also nods. “Yes. Good. I’m glad you agree. I’ve been going over like every possible thing we can do while you’re here. I’m so excited. Also still kinda nervous but I’m sure that’ll pass as time goes on? Like – how long are you staying again? How much time did you take off?”

“I took two weeks, I had a lot of days saved up.” You laugh a little.

“That’s great! God, I’m so excited. This is gonna be the best two weeks ever. I missed you so much?”

You just nod, those words now bouncing around in your skull. _I missed you so much._ It still felt unreal, John missing you. You’ve been in contact now for over two years but it was still surreal to know that in all that time you didn’t talk _he_ was looking for you _too._ You weren’t the only one who missed your friendship. Sometimes it makes you angry with yourself, all those times you told yourself he hated you or he forgot about you… you were so sure he wanted nothing to do with you but the _entire_ time he did.

“So, we’ll take your stuff back to my place and then go out for a big dinner, okay? You’re probably starving.”

“A little.”

He stands and throws back the last of his drink. “There’s this great buffet like three blocks from my apartment and I think you’ll really like it. It’s got a huge variety so your picky ass won’t have a reason to complain.”

“I’ve barely been here and you’re already hitting me with the gentle bullying.” You shake your head. “So rude.”

“It’s what friends are for.”

You stand too and follow him back out to his car. The drive to his apartment is disorienting. You’ve lived in the same city since you were six years old, seeing all these new places was weirdly confusing. He’s pointing out important buildings and landmarks as he drives, you think it’s endearing. Eventually he parks along the curb outside of a brick building.

“This is it, my building.” He gestures up to it and gets out of the car.

“It’s… charming.”

“It’s old.” He laughs. “But the inside is like, remodeled, so the outside is a _lie_.”

You gasp and close your car door, staring up at the building. “I like it, though. Might get some photos of it before I leave.”

“I love your photos.” He idly comments, walking up to the door and holding it open for you. “They’re always so creative.”

“Thank… you.” You step inside, and he wasn’t lying. The lobby is much nicer than the outside lets on.

He leads you to the elevator and then pushes the button for the fifth floor. “This elevator was broken for like six weeks at one point, during the summer, and the stairwell is _not_ air-conditioned. It was literally the worst kind of hell!”

“Oh, shit, I’ll bet.” You nod. “Remember when the elevator in my building was broken when we were kids?”

“God, yes, didn’t you live, like, twenty stories up?”

“Ohhhh yeah.”

“That was really the worst kind of hell. I don’t think I went to your house for like three months.” He laughs.

“I know, it was miserable. I _always_ had to go to your place. So unbearable. Your dad making homemade food and giving us sweets all the time. How did I live?”

He laughs again and shoves you out the door when it opens, you stumble and drag your suitcase along with you. “That was like my permanent childhood, okay?”

“I know, it was heaven for me. Bro was a big fan of MSG.” You wrinkle your nose. “I don’t think I’ll ever appreciate delivery pizza for what it is because of how often I ate it as a child.”

“God, I loved going over to your house on pizza nights. My dad _never_ ordered food!” John follows you, your other suitcase rolling behind him.

“Hey, uh, why am I leading? I don’t know which apartment is yours.”

He laughs and rushes to get in front of you. “It’s this one, actually.” He fishes a set of keys out of his pocket and unlocks the apartment just to your left. When the door opens a little black and white cat tries to run out, he shoves her back with his foot. “No, Margarita, back up.”

You laugh. “Wait, your cats name is Margarita? I thought it was just Rita.”

“That’s her nickname.” He also laughs.

“Good Lord, Egbert.” You follow him inside and look around. It’s not the biggest apartment but it’s decent. It smells good.

He shuts the door behind you and then stands at your side. “So, what do you think?”

“It’s nice. It’s big.” Why did you say it’s big? It’s so clearly not big.

“ _Hardly_ , but it’s just me and Rita so it’s fine.” He scoops down and picks up the cat. “Isn’t that right, Rita?” She meows and he scratches her under the chin. “This is Dave, he’s going to be staying here for a few days. Be on your best behavior.” He looks at you and grins before whispering, “I’ve told her about you but she’s got a terrible memory.”

He’s told his cat about you? What the fuck? That is so… cute. Oh God, there was that little flutter in your chest again. Nobody but John Egbert has ever made you feel that way. You smile and nod, also petting the cat. “She’s cute.”

John just grins again and lets her go, back onto the floor. “Thank you. I’m sure she appreciates the compliment.” He pauses for a second, looking around. “So, I’ve only got one bedroom, but while you’re here you can consider it yours, okay?”

“What?” You laugh a little. “No way, we can share.” The words are out of your mouth before you can really think about them. You haven’t seen each other in eight years and you immediately offer to just share a bed with him. Okay, Dave.

“Oh, uh, okay.” He shrugs. “If you’re sure that’s okay.”

“Yeah, totally fine.” You nod. You’re in too deep now. This is what’s happening.

**-oOo-**

One of the _worst_ things about staying the night at somebody’s else’s house was waking up first. You blink up at the ceiling a few times and consider your options.

You could:

  1. Go back to sleep, or at least try.
  2. Pretend you’re still asleep.
  3. Just lay there and wait for John to wake up.
  4. Wake John up.
  5. Get up and not bother John, like the adult you are.



You turn your head to look at John. He’s still asleep, snoring softly. He’s so… cute. You don’t – you absolutely _don’t_ want to be a creep so despite all your anxiety you wiggle your way off the bed and stand up. First stop: bathroom. After that, you go into the small living room and sit on the sofa with your phone. Fifteen minutes pass and your stomach lets out the most unholy of growls. You pat it and tell it to shoosh but it just keeps talking.

“ _Fine_.” You stand up. “I’m sure John won’t care if I help myself to a bowl of cereal.”

Of course he doesn’t mind. He told you _yesterday_ morning that he didn’t care… but that doesn’t mean you’re not still anxious about making yourself unwelcome in his home. He swears you can make yourself comfortable but you still feel like you should walk on eggshells. You do eventually help yourself to a bowl of rice cereal and sit back on the couch with your phone.

John eventually comes shuffling into the room and gives you a small wave before also going to make himself some cereal. He sits in the chair next to the couch and pulls his legs up crisscross. You watch him for a moment, he’s clearly still tired. His pajamas are wrinkled and his hair is wilder than ever.

“Yo.” You eventually say.

“Hey.” He replies, mouth full of cereal.

“Nice hair.”

“Thanks.”

Silence falls between you again until he leans forward to put his now empty bowl on the coffee table. “When did you wake up?”

“Like thirty minutes before you.” You say. “I was hungry so I ditched you to get some cereal.”

He nods. “As it should be.”

“You really need a better selection. I can live off of different kinds of cereal for days but you have… so few.”

“That’s because my diet has a variety, unlike yours.”

“Did you not just hear me say I eat a _variety_ of cereals?”

You both laugh and he stands up. “I need to go shower and change for rehearsal, do you want to come?”

“If I see the rehearsal then the actual graduation might not be as exciting.” You grin.

“Fair point.”

“I’ll just kick it with Rita while you’re gone.”

He nods. “I think she likes you.”

“Of course she does, who doesn’t?”

He only smiles and then goes off to collect clean clothes and take a shower. He leaves for his graduation rehearsal and you’re left alone in his apartment with his cat and your thoughts.

Rita jumps up into your lap and you absently pet her. “Your dad is a real piece of work, Rita.” You say. “You know, I’ve known him since I was nine years old.” She mrrps. “He moved away when we were fourteen and then because of some fucked up circumstance we stopped talking for like four years.” You sigh. “I was in love with him. He was my first kiss.” You look down at the cat in your lap. “I think I might _still be_. Which is _so_ stupid! We spent so much time apart, why did I never get over him? It’s not like - ” You sigh again. “Nevermind, Rita, you wouldn’t understand.”

You continue petting Rita for the better part of an hour, idly scrolling your phone to pass time, before finally getting up and also going to shower. John texts you when his rehearsal is done. He says he’ll be by to pick you up and the two of you can go to lunch before the actual graduation.

You have sandwiches at what is probably the most aesthetically pleasing sandwich shop you’ve ever seen. It’s locally owned and so tastefully decorated. You take so many pictures, John just laughs as you do. After that you impulsively stop for ice cream and then go to John’s graduation ceremony. It’s long and boring, as graduation ceremonies tend to be, but you cheer louder than everyone for John. You meet his dad again, he seems surprised to see you; and you meet his cousins, they’re all super nice.

When it’s over, you and John part ways with his family and return to his apartment. You get inside and John immediately starts getting ready to leave again. “Change your clothes.” He says.

“Why?” You ask.

“I figure you’ll want to wear something less stuffy for drinks.” He grins.

“Oh, we’re going out for drinks?”

“Of course, we’re celebrating my official graduation and _also_ our reunion.”

“Sorry, I had no idea.” You roll your eyes.

The two of you get changed and John calls a cab. You bar hop for a few hours and eventually get dinner too. After you eat, John decides it’s time for the “real fun” to begin, whatever that means. He calls another cab and the two of you end up at a small nightclub. You never pegged John Egbert for the partying type but he’s changed so much in the last eight years…

He drags you onto the dance floor with him, an expert tipsy-dancer. He doesn’t spill a drop of his drink and he seems to be having a great time. You’re a little more awkward in your attempts at dancing, you’ve never been great at the social scene.

After a few more drinks and a whole lot of social interaction, the two of you end up at a corner table. You’re nursing your (hopefully, last) cocktail of the night. John uses his elbow to prop his head up on the table and playfully sips his own drink.

“So, are you having any fun at all tonight?” He asks, he’s clearly less than sober.

“Of course?” You say. You’re not lying, you’re just awkward.

“Okay, I was worried that I like – brought you out here and forced you to do all this and you _didn’t_ even want to.” He laughs a little, leaning forward. “I don’t want you to be – I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

You shake your head. “I’m not, but you’re drunk.” You really don’t have any room to talk, the alcohol has gotten to your head too.

He giggles and sits back, shaking his head. “I so am not.”

“Yes, you so are.” You also laugh. “You’re wasted!”

“Wasted is an _over_ exaggeration!” He points. “I am – like – tipsy at most.”

You laugh again. “Riiiight. Tipsy. That’s why you’re swaying all over the place and you sound like you’re trying to read Sharpie off a napkin.”

“What does that even mean?”

“Like, you know how Sharpie ink bleeds? Especially on thin paper like – you know it’s not as funny when I have to explain it.”

John just sways again and sips his drink with a shrug. “Okay.”

You eventually get up and take a cab back to John’s apartment. He kicks off his shoes by the door and spends a solid ten minutes squatted down petting the cat and telling her how much he missed her. When he finally moves to stand again he almost falls over, flat on his face, luckily you’re there to catch him.

He giggles and holds onto you after you help him to his feet. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” You say, moving to let go.

He kisses you.

It’s drunk, clumsy, and sloppy. Your head is spinning and you’re sure his is too, but he kisses you. You involuntarily jerk back and look at him, eyes wide.

“John - ”

He stumbles backwards away from you, also looking confused. “I don’t know why I did that.” He takes a sharp inhale of breath and furrows his eyebrows. “I’m drunk. I am drunk.”

“You didn’t mean to?” You swallow.

He looks at you very seriously, clearly trying to figure something out but having trouble muddling through his drunken thoughts. “I don’t… know.” He shakes his head. “I don’t know.”


	6. It’s not a question anymore.

John was too drunk to have a conversation after he kissed you. You didn’t want to make him feel awkward, he’d already embarrassed himself… and you. You were definitely embarrassed.

You don’t sleep much at all that night, you’re hyper-aware of his closeness after what happened. Every once in a while, you glance over at him and wonder if he’d be offended if you slept on the couch… you like to think he’d understand but you still can’t force yourself to move. The little bit of sleep you do get is fitful, restless. You have _weird_ dreams, the buzz only making them weirder.

The sun creeps in through the bedroom window and you squeeze your eyes shut tighter, but it’s too late. You’re already awake, and honestly, you’re not even sure you were asleep to begin with. You sit up with a groan and look over at John. He’s still out cold, he probably will be for a while. You quietly get out of bed and go find a bottle of ibuprofen and a glass of water to leave on the table beside him before going to get yourself some breakfast.

Your stomach is screaming _‘hot food’_ but you can’t bring yourself to actually use John’s stove this morning. You want to draw as little attention to yourself as possible and heating up the house with sounds and smells is the exact opposite of that. You briefly consider going for a walk to get some fast food, but what if John wakes up and you’re gone? He’s going to think you left because of what happened! A bowl of cereal will just have to suffice.

You eat in silence, not bothering with your phone; you’ve got a lot on your mind and multitasking seems impossible right now.

Okay, so, John kissed you. He was drunk though, so did it mean anything? It had to have, right? John clearly still likes you too. It’s been eight years, though, why would he? You were kids the last time you danced around the idea of dating! But you said so yourself, absence makes the heart grow fonder! And clearly John at least _missed_ you too… even if he didn’t talk to you for four years. It was circumstance. You have to tell yourself it was circumstance, you have to believe John wanted to talk as much as you did. Why would he lie about that? He’s your – he was your best friend! He’s still your best friend. You two have talked almost daily for the last two years, he’s totally your best friend. Then why did being here feel so unnatural? Why did being around him after so long feel like new territory?

“Hey.” John says, shuffling in from his room, and pulling you from your train of thought.

“Hey.” You parrot.

He sits without getting any food and you know he’s about to start talking. You open your mouth to say it’s okay before he can get a word out but he beats you to it. “I’m sorry I kissed you last night.”

“What? No, don’t be sorry.” You wave your spoon a little. “I’m over it. You were drunk.”

He looks down and clenches his jaw. Of _fuck_ , did you offend him? “I know I was, but that’s still no reason to have done that.”

“You weren’t in your right mind.”

“I knew what I was doing, Dave.” He looks up. “I wasn’t that drunk.”

“Oh…” You swallow, unsure of where he’s taking this.

“I always feel like such an asshole when I talk to you.”

“Uh… why?” You question, hesitant.

“Because we were best fr - boyfriends and I just up and stopped talking to you.” You choke a little on the word boyfriends but he keeps going. “I know I apologize for it all the time, it was just a string of fucked up circumstances. I didn’t know your number, that one stupid thing never worked, I didn’t know your address… but none of that fucking matters. I was still a dick. You were expecting me to get in touch and I just _didn’t_. That is like – I didn’t think I could’ve done anything worse to you if I tried.” He laughs a little bitterly. “And then I kissed you last night.”

“How is that worse?”

He looks up at you. “It’s worse because I can only imagine how you already feel. I know how _I_ feel. I know how I think about leaving you hanging for four years and wishing we could rekindle the same – the spark we had before… without it being awkward.”

“But we di - ”

“No, we really didn’t. Sure, yes, we talk all the time now but it still feels like it’s missing something and I _know_ you know that. I spend time figuring out how to tiptoe around awkward wording regularly. You were my _best friend_ and as much as we told ourselves we _weren’t_ dating, you were my boyfriend. I don’t think you stopped being my boyfriend until I disa-fucking-peared.”

You swallow and nod. “John…”

“I missed you all the time, I wished I hadn’t been so stupid. After you got in contact again, I realized how stupid I’d been in not adding you first! I didn’t even think of it… but I _swear_ to you, Dave, I never forgot about you. I never felt like I could have a relationship with anyone else because I had no closure with you and I didn’t want to do that to you after knowing what I’d already done.”

“But you didn’t do it on purpose, John. You didn’t.” You reassure.

“That _doesn’t_ matter. I still did it. And after years of trying to build everything back up, years of awkwardness, I kissed you. Outright, no bullshit, I kissed you.” He sighs. “I just feel like… it’s like playing with your feelings or whatever.”

“You’re _not -_ ”

“If I felt like I was playing with my own feelings then I know I was playing with yours, Dave.” He says, matter of fact. “Yes, I kissed you because I was drunk… but I still knew what I was doing. I just had less… inhibitions. It made it easier. I thought it would… bring back the…” He sighs. “Spark.”

You watch him for a moment and then lean forward to put your cereal bowl down before standing and sitting next to him instead. “John, we never lost our spark. We were best friends even when we weren’t talking to each other, do you understand? I never once hated you for disappearing. I was sad, I’ll cop to that. I was super sad, I thought _you_ hated me.”

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about, Dave. I made you think I hated you and then what? I just kissed you.”

You laugh a little. “I’m pretty sure we’ve had a solid two and a half years of contact between those things.”

“ _Still._ ” He says.

You shake your head. “No. You’re wrong. We never lost that spark, even if we felt awkward. I promise you, I’ve never stopped feeling about you how I _always_ felt. You weren’t playing with my feelings and you aren’t now.”

He looks over at you and you. “I’m still… sorry.”

In a moment of completely insanity, you ignore every alarm going off in your brain and _you_ lean in to kiss _him_. It’s soft and short. You don’t want to come off too hard after such a heavy conversation. “There. We’re even then.” You say, pulling back.

He stares at you for a long time, eyes scanning your face. You start to feel a little anxious, like that was the wrong decision, and then he speaks. “I love you.” He says quietly. “You’re seriously my best friend.”

You nod in agreement. “I love you too.”

**-oOo-**

The two weeks with John fly by after that. Before you know, it you have go home. It feels almost ironic, you being the one leaving him this time. He promises to come see you soon, though. You didn’t come on this trip expecting to rekindle your old, broken relationship with your best friend but that’s exactly what happened.

You aren’t sure how you feel when you board the plane. It’s your first real moment away from John and your head is swimming. You were… boyfriends? Or you weren’t? No, you definitely were. If the last few days spoke for anything then you _definitely_ were. You stare out the window as the plane takes off and smile to yourself. You kind of liked the sound of that, you and John being boyfriends. It felt so much more real than saying it when you were fourteen, despite everything that your friendship has been through.

When you land in Texas, it’s hard to get back into the swing of things at work and with friends. You’re talking to John more than ever, constant promises to see one another and discussions about when exactly you’ll be able to move in together. Everything seems to be happening so quickly. Before you know it, Autumn rolls around and so does John. He stays at your apartment for a few weeks before flying back to Boston. You miss him immediately and you feel like you didn’t get to spend nearly enough time with him… maybe it was time that you seriously talked about taking that final step? But moving across the country is _expensive._ You’d do it for him.

can i move in with you?

John beats you to it, though.

has your plane even landed yet  
it just touched down.  
youve been thinking about this for your entire flight havent you  
i missed you the minute i was in the secure area!  
aw thats gay  
i missed you too  
so can i?  
your apartment is nicer  
???  
i was really just sitting over here thinking about talking to you about this  
of course id planned to do it a little bit more eloquently  
but you dived right in  
youre the least eloquent person i know  
takes a non-eloquent person to know one!! :p  
im rolling my eyes so hard over here  
in a book of lame comebacks  
thatd be the lamest  
whatever, are you saying you want to move in with me?  
your apartment is nicer  
you want to move to boston?  
it snows there  
you want to move into my apartment, 100% seriously?  
well i dont want to move into your neighbors apartment  
dave!  
yes  
john  
i want to move into your apartment  
in boston  
seriously?  
yes  
and here i was prepared to move to texas again!  
texas fuckin sucks john  
boston has winter and also its pretty  
and you live there which is a huge plus  
of course i live here! these plans are for us to move in together!  
mayhaps we should plan these things when youre not about to get off an airplane and get rushed around an airport  
yeah…  
but we have to talk about this!  
okay?  
of course  
ily  
i love you too.

You smile at your phone. He was thinking about it too.

In fact, the two of you were thinking about it _so_ much that you actually made it happen. Just a month after John’s visit you ended up packing all your shit and moving across the country to live with him. Rita was pleased to see you and adjusting to being at John’s place this time was… easier. John corrected you every single time you called it his house.

“ _Our_ house, Dave.”

He’d say it so matter of fact. It made you feel weird but in the same breath you loved it. When you were nine years old and he got sat next to you in class you never _never_ would have guessed where your life would take you with him. You had your ups and you had your _terrible_ downs, but in the end, it all worked out. You don’t believe in fate or soulmates but in the case of Johnathan Egbert… maybe you do.

His teeth are just right and his hair is perfect. You don’t care if it’s messy and you don’t care if he gets fly-aways. You’re guilty of putting him on a pedestal and your heart always has a lot to say about him, but so what? You love him. Despite everything you _love_ him.

It’s not a question anymore.

_You are gay and you love your best friend._


End file.
